


You've Got Another Thing Coming

by Chash



Series: Miss Atomic Bomb [27]
Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8944846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: As far as Daine knew, Numair didn't dislike people. So Ozorne was a surprise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [gideonseymours](http://gideonseymours.tumblr.com/)!

Daine doesn’t really think of Numair as someone who dislikes people. Which is an odd thing, when she realizes it. Most everyone dislikes someone. Especially among her friends. With Rikash, it’s more noteworthy when he actually likes someone, and Alanna collects enemies like it’s her job.

But Numair, he’s friendly and easy. She’s never even seen him lose his temper, not badly. And he’s so natural about it, she didn’t even realize. The closest he came was Kaddar, and he felt so guilty about that, it was hard to take it seriously. It was easy to just not think of it.

At least until Professor Ozorne.

Of course, Professor Ozorne has always been around. Daine had heard of him in the same way she’d heard of plenty of the staff. He’s a political science professor, and she hadn’t taken any political science courses, but he’s pretty well-known, well regarded. He writes a lot of books.

She doesn’t think it can possibly be a big deal.

“I’m thinking about taking Politics of Post-Colonial Cultures,” she tells Numair, absent. “Can’t put off my required courses forever.”

It’s immediate, the way he stiffens, but he tries not to show it. Maybe he’s not upset like this enough to be good at hiding it. “Who teaches that?” he asks.

“Ozorne.”

“I thought so.” A pause, and then, “Don’t take it.”

It’s not surprising, it’s just odd. He’s told her not to take classes before, but it tends to be a paragraph, not a sentence. He’s passionate about plenty of professors, but almost all of them are in his field, and the opinions are long and well reasoned and exhaustive.

“No?” she asks, mild. “And why is that?”

“A number of reasons,” he says. “For one, he is, with no offense meant to you or to George, a bastard. He’s brilliant, but I don’t think he’s suited to teaching. I don’t want him to find out about you at all, if I can help it. And we briefly dated.”

Daine blinks. “That,” she says, slow, “seems like the sort of thing that might have come up before.”

“My interest in men is–limited,” he says. “Possibly anecdotal. Which I realize sounds–Ozorne was and remains my only male lover, and I filed it away as a data point to be reviewed later. In the case of additional data points.”

She has to smile. “Numair, you sound like a textbook. This is your life. I’m not upset, just curious.”

He lets out a breath. “Yes. Of course. He and I were–a little like you and I are. The age difference wasn’t as large, but I was in undergrad when he was working on his PhD. And we were close, and then we were very close.” He sighs. “It was not something–I don’t think of it as something I keep from people. In a way, it felt more dishonest to talk about it. In the grand scheme of my life, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“It’s enough you told me I shouldn’t take his class,” she points out. “That sounds like a fair bit to me.”

“I suppose.” He sighs. “I would tell anyone not to take a class with him. I don’t think he should be a professor at all. He’s arrogant and sees academia as a way to further his own ambitions, not as an opportunity to teach.” He lets out a breath. “And, yes, on a personal level, I would prefer if you didn’t speak with him. I don’t trust him with you. He has too keen an interest in–bright young people.”

“I wish you’d told me,” she says. “Just–I could have run into him any time, you know. I wouldn’t have thought to worry about it.”

“Which might have been for the best. But,” he adds, before he can object, “that wasn’t why I didn’t tell you. In all honesty, I try to forget about him. And, in continued honesty, I hadn’t yet thought to worry about your meeting him. An oversight, on my part. I should have been imagining many more worse case scenarios.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Daine says, with a roll of her eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I do know. And I’m almost being serious. I am surprised I didn’t start thinking of that earlier, but–you’ve never showed any interest in political science, and I try to avoid thinking about him at all.”

“You must see him sometimes.”

“I do. It’s not a problem for me. We’re polite to each other in passing. Sometimes he snipes at me, but–I think he knows there’s very little he can do to hurt me.”

“But he wants to.” It’s honestly inconceivable to Daine, that someone like this should exist. It’s hard to imagine anyone hating Numair so much, holding a grudge against him. He’s–well, he’s Numair.

“He was very interested in what we would have been able to do together. A whole new biological history of the world. It wasn’t just–if I’d rejected him only personally or only professionally, we might have been fine. But I did both, and the blow to his ego hasn’t recovered. I wanted nothing to do with him.”

“Then I don’t either,” she says. “Do you have any other mortal enemies out there I should know about?” she asks. “Honestly, Numair, these are the stories I want to hear without having to accidentally think about enrolling in classes.”

“Hmm,” he says, tapping his jaw. “Did I ever tell you about Tristan Staghorn?”

She settles in against his chest. “You never did.”

“Oh, well, that’s a very good story,” he says. “I can’t believe I neglected it.”

*

It’s another six months before she meets him, completely by chance. She and Numair are at a lecture of Professor Olau’s, and he has his arm around her while they chat with Alanna. It’s nothing they haven’t done dozens of times, but this is the only one where Alanna stiffens and says, “Nine o'clock.”

“No, it’s four,” says Numair, while Daine looks to their side, where Ozorne is approaching.

“Did Alanna know about Ozorne?”

“She’s a history major, she was in more danger,” says Numair, following her glance and then snapping back to the two of them. “This is a situation where running is an honorable choice, isn’t it?”

“I’m always impressed you have a traumatic ex,” says Alanna. “It just doesn’t feel like you. Do you really need to run?”

“My other option is speaking to him, and I would prefer not to.”

“Is it bad if I’m a little bit curious?” Daine asks.

“Yes,” Numair hisses, but it’s too late.

Ozorne is an attractive, charming man, which is a weird thing to think just looking at someone. How can anyone look charming? It’s fair unnerving.

“Numair,” he says. “And–Alanna, isn’t it? How wonderful to see you both.” He turns his attention to Daine. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.”

“This is Veralidaine Sarrasri,” says Numair.

“An undergraduate?” he asks.

“A junior,” says Daine. “Why?”

“Curiosity, only. Alanna, you must have graduated.”

“I’m getting my PhD,” says Alanna. “I saw you published another book I’m never going to read.”

Numair chokes on nothing, but Ozorne’s expression doesn’t falter. He turns his attention back to Daine, smooth and easy. “And what are you studying, Veralidaine?”

“Just Daine, thank you.”

Ozorne’s smile practically oozes. “Oh, no. Veralidaine is such a lovely name. It would be a shame, to abbreviate it.”

As far as Daine’s concerned, it’s her name, and she should be the one who decides how he uses it. But she doubts that would convince him of anything. In her experience, people who dismiss you out of hand the first time you make a polite request aren’t likely to do much better the second.

“Yes,” snaps Alanna. “What a tragedy, for someone to pick their own nickname.”

“I’m glad to see you haven’t developed any manners.” He turns his attention to Numair. “And have you gotten any closer to finding a calling, or are you still amassing degrees?”

“You say that like amassing degrees isn’t a calling,” says Numair. To Daine’s surprise, he sounds–fine. Upbeat, even. She can tell he dislikes Ozorne, but only because she’s so close against his side, and there’s tension radiating off him. “Surely the pursuit of knowledge is the highest goal.”

“Surely,” says Ozorne. “My offer of collaboration is always open.”

“What a kind and generous offer,” Numair says. “I am, as always, completely uninterested.”

“Of course. It’s–good to see you, Numair. I hope you settle down, someday soon. Get a good idea of what you want out of life.”

“I have a good idea, thank you. And now I believe it’s time for us to stuff our pockets with free food to bring back to our friends who are unable to provide for themselves. Have a good afternoon.”

“He didn’t seem so bad,” Daine finally offers. “No one I’d ever want to spend time with, of course. But it didn’t seem as if he’d really do anything. Aside from be a creep.”

“Which is plenty,” Alanna grumbles. “I hate the way he looks at people. I always feel like I need a shower after.”

“I just hope he doesn’t try to get in touch again. He–he doesn’t like losing. And he still counts me as a loss. Think of all the academic publications we’ll never collaborate on.”

“And the sex you’ll never have,” Alanna adds.

“Also that. But I think the academics cut deeper.” He glances down at Daine. “If he tries to get in contact with you again, let me know. I don’t trust him.”

Daine shrugs. “I’m not too worried. If he gets too out of line, we’ll have Rikash find someone to rough him up.”

Numair looks genuinely horrified. “My dear, I hope he never meets Rikash. I don’t even want to imagine.”

At first, it doesn’t make any sense to her, but then she actually thinks about it.

“No, you’re right,” she agrees. “Let’s not.”

*

She doesn’t tell Numair about the first email–I’d love to talk more, Veralidaine–and just sends it to spam. When she checks her spam two days later and finds another, she tells him just because if they could get him fired, that would be great.

“It’s actually a little comforting, though,” she admits.

“What part of it is possibly comforting?” he asks.

“Well, you can be a little–dramatic. It’s nice to know that when something serious comes up, you know how to give it the right weight.”

“Tell you not to take his classes, make nice with him in public, and report him for harassment if he sends any more emails?”

“Yes. Perfect.”

“I’m glad to be such a responsible adult.” He pauses. “I send all his emails to spam too. I always thought it was taking the easy way out.”

“Well, you’re not going to respond anyway, so why bother? He’s not worth your time thinking about.”

“That is exactly how I feel.” He kisses her temple. “In future, I’ll tell you any other rivals or enemies I acquire. But I prefer to let Alanna do that and then borrow hers when I feel the need to hate someone.”

“Yes, that sounds perfect,” she says, and deletes Ozorne’s email. “Just what I like to hear.”


End file.
